Return to me
by Bluestarshine
Summary: The burdens of his past weigh down upon Erik in each moment of his existence. His heart was once golden, but now it is cold and worn down. Erik returns to the place that was never home, and finds a light in the darkest of times. He finds this light in Charles, the man with the kind soul and golden heart, who also struggles with his own past. XMFC Erik/Charles-ModernAU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I claim and own absolutely nothing all. The wonder that is X-Men, and all the amazing characters, belongs to its respective owners.**

* * *

Today is that day, the day that carried  
a desperate light that since has died.  
**.**

The trees stand tall around him, frosty and dripping with remnants of the previous nights rain. The air is frosty, uncomfortably and icily so, and it seeps through his sleeves, creeping slowly up his arms, before it hits his chest and consumes him. Erik still moves forward, despite this almost unbearable coldness.

He reaches for the beanie in his pocket, opens it and slides it over his head before he reaches for the hood of his jacket and lifts it over his head. He places his bag over his shoulders, strapping it down around his chest, before he slides his hands in the insides of his pockets.

Today the air seems harsher, the world is harsher, and far colder than it was the previous morning.

Perhaps, he believes it is so, because he is returning to the forgotten land, his forgotten home – but it isn't his home, it never truly was his home, it is still a place that he has purposefully forgotten yet it is the place he finds himself seeking some form of shelter in.

His eyes skim over his surroundings as he passes them by; more frosty trees, more puddles of water, and another small stream, flowing softly with a strong current of cold water.

He needs no map to guide him, towards the main road which he soon finds easily, for he remembers few fragments of this previously forgotten place.

When he reaches the road, he finds that it is almost empty with the exception of a red truck driving steadily towards the direction in which he stands.

He half stands out of the road, pulls his left hand out of it's warm place in his pocket, and extends it to the car, signalling for a lift.

The driver ignores him, the red truck drives past him, and as it does he fights the urge to curse it, to shout at it, to throw something at it.

And then it stops abruptly, like the driver heard his silent thoughts and curses.

He watches silently as the truck reverses, as it moves closer towards him, and as it pulls to a stop once more the window rolls down and the driver sticks their head out.

"How can I help you, son?" the man, with slightly greying hair, a moustache, and brown eyes asks.

A frown falls on Erik's features, he releases a low sigh and hesitates.

"Er...A lift into town, if you're headed that way?" Erik answers.

The man smiles. "Sure am! Sorry I almost missed you, didn't see you standing there. Climb on up."

Erik reaches for the car door, a small smile resting on his face, as he opens it. He steps up, into the car, and quickly closes the door.

The warmth of the heater is refreshing and soothes his aching hands, he quickly presses them towards the heater.

"You visiting on business or holiday?" he asks.

"Neither." Erik replies.

The man nods. "The names Jack Colbert."

Erik nods once, not glancing towards Jack.

"You got a name, son?" Jack answers.

Erik sighs loudly, turning slightly to look towards Jack.

Jack seems to understand this look, that he doesn't want to say his name, to share it, or to share anything about himself, by the expression that forms on his features.

"Just tell me one thing, son, you're not on the run are you?" Jack asks.

A small laugh escapes Erik's dry lips.

"No, sir." Erik reassures him.

Jack eases up, a smile spreading on his own lips. "Good." he murmurs. "Good."

"Well, whatever it is you're doing here, or looking for, I hope you find it." Jack sighs softly.

* * *

Erik leaves Jack as they reach the town sign, assuring him that he'd rather walk the rest of the way. He thanks Jack quickly, nods at him once, before he starts on his way.

He walks slowly, taking his time, trying to ease the weight on his right knee, and as he walks he remembers flashes and old details of a past life, a life that feels as though does not belong to him, a life that was never truly lived, a life that is not his.

He enters the main town to find it busy, swarming with people, but he could care less, he doesn't spare any of them a single glance.

He isn't searching for anyone, he's here for a place to stay, perhaps find somewhere to work and earn some money before he can move on to the next town, the next place, because he never stays anywhere for too long because complacency is almost always accompanied by weakness and he cannot afford to feel any weaknesses, to be weak, or to feel anything.

He reaches into his bag, searching until he finds an almost empty packet of Marlboro red and pulls out a cigarette. He stuffs the packet back into his bag, lights the cigarette with his silver lighter and then places the lighter into his pocket. He readjusts his back-pack and continues moving forward.

He moves through the town slowly, stopping only as he sets his eyes down upon a large, two story, brick building with a wire gate running around the borders of the land. His eyes flicker over it quickly and he soon identifies what it is, soon recognises it, remembers it as being the old town library.

But a new town library has been built, he crossed it earlier within moments of walking into town, so he isn't entirely sure, he doesn't understand why, there would be two libraries in a town so small as this.

Erik glances towards a dark haired man, dressed in a long-sleeved, rolled up, grey shirt with a black and blue button up vest on top and dark brown pants. His brown hair is thick, with a few stray curls, brushed back off of his face.

This isn't what catches Erik's attention, this isn't what draws him in and causes him to stiffen up and his shoulders to become rigid.

Two soft, blue, sparkling eyes, clear and gentle, catch his attention.

There is a familiarity floating in them, a softness swirling, and a kindness resting in these eyes.

"Looks to me like you've got a hole in your roof." Erik announces, exhaling on the cigarette as he speaks, leaving it to rest between his lips and hang out of his mouth.

The man turns towards him slowly, halting slightly, a pleasant smile rests on his face.

"I'm sorry?" he asks, a flicker of confusion darting across his features.

"You've got a hole in your roof." Erik informs him.

That was one of the first things that he noticed.

Erik watches as the blue eyed man glances towards the roof, his eyes immediately settling on the hole.

"Oh, it seems I do." he sighs. "Thank you, for that. I'll look into getting it fixed." he smiles.

"I can do that for you." Erik announces.

The man, who had just stepped inside the gate, turns around with the smile still resting on his features.

"I'm sorry?" he repeats.

Erik exhales. "I can fix it."

"You could?"

"Yes." Erik nods.

"And what would your asking price be?" he asks.

"I'd like a shower." Erik answers.

"Oh, how terribly rude of me," the man sighs, lifting his hand briefly to his creased forehead.

He extends his hand to Erik and smiles.

"Charles Xavier." he smiles.

Erik's eyes almost cautiously flicker down to Charles' hand, but he still shakes it.

"Erik Lehnsherr." Erik shakes his hand.

"So, Mr Lehnsherr," Charles begins, his eyes unintentionally flickering and lingering over Erik.

His hair is concealed, hidden underneath a hooded jacket and a beanie, his blue eyes, piercing, such a light shade of blue and yet they are so dark, they contain such darkness, stare back at him. A shaggy, thick beard runs across his face and joins with a moustache resting underneath his nose.

"Please, Mr Xavier, call me Erik." Erik insists.

Charles smiles.

"So, Erik.." he continues.

"You would be willing to fix the hole in my roof for something as little as a shower?" Charles asks, almost in disbelief of this man's offer.

Erik gives a slight nod of his head.

"A warm one, preferably." Erik responds.

"I'm not sure, Erik." Charles answers. "Of course, you may have a warm shower inside, regardless of whether you do indeed fix the roof, but it will take your time, and effort, and I am not entirely sure that I feel comfortable not paying you with money but with a shower."

"You've no reason to feel guilty, Mr Xavier. These are my terms. Besides, the hole is small, from my observation." Erik answers casually. "Shouldn't take more than an afternoon to fix."

"Please, Erik, call me Charles." Charles insists.

Charles pauses. You are quite sure you have an afternoon to spare, Erik?"

"I do." Erik nods once. "And I would prefer to call you Mr Xavier, if that is alright with you."

"Of course." Charles smiles.

Charles smiles softly, before he speaks again.

"I think, perhaps, I may be able to offer you more than a shower." he says.

Erik lifts an eyebrow slightly. "How so?"

"May I offer you something to eat?" Charles suggests. "Perhaps, if you require it, a bed to rest in."

But as the words pass his lips, Charles feels an immediate regret. He did not wish to imply that Erik did not have a bed to sleep him, he was simply stating that if for the night he required a bed to rest in then he may find one here.

"Oh, my apologies, Erik. I did not wish to offend you in anyway, I was simply stating that-" Charles quickly apologises for being so foolish as to assume that Erik had no place to stay, no bed to sleep in, due to his physical, shaggy, dirty appearance.

He only assumed this as the man asked for a shower but Charles now realises that it was quite rude of him.

"I will fix the hole in your roof for a warm shower and a meal." Erik states.

Charles manages a small smile. "I am truly sorry, Erik. I didn't mean to offend you in anyway."

"I assure you, Mr Xavier, you did no such thing." Erik responds.

Charles sighs softly. "Well, thank you for your very kind offer, Erik. Please, follow me inside."

Erik puts out his cigarette, exhales the smoke he'd drawn from the last puff, and follows Charles up the concrete path and towards the large library.

"You have beds here, at the library?" Erik asks, curiosity overtaking him.

He didn't remember the library having any beds.

"Yes, I do." Charles politely responds. "I purchased the library, many years ago, and transformed it. By day, it is a library and café of sorts serving treats and such, in which readers may come to read and enjoy a nice meal, and by night the upstairs level is where the residents rest." he says.

A flicker of a frown forms on Erik's tired features.

"Residents?" he asks, sounding more than confused by this.

"Yes, Erik, after purchasing the library I converted the second level into a housing unit, of sorts. Beds, showers, a small living room and dining room. It was created for those who believed they had nowhere to go. Currently, there are four residents, all of whom I have known for some time. They are quite comfortable here." Charles says, pausing only as he reaches the front doors.

The front doors are a soft, brown wood with large dark brown handles.

Charles opens them, and steps to the side, allowing Erik to step through.

"Please, Mr Xavier, step through first." Erik says quickly. "It is your home, not mine."

"You are a guest in my home, Erik." Charles smiles.

Erik steps through without a word.

He enters to find a quite wonderful sight.

On one half of the library book shelves, running so high up that a large ladder must be required to reach the top, stand filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books. A small bench, with the words; Front Desk, labelled on it, stand to the side of the shelves and Erik assumes this must be where the hiring and returning, and other library procedures, take place.

To his left, he finds brown tables, of various shapes and sizes such as small circular and long square tables, rest. He catches sight of a long, slim bench in the shape of a U, standing before a door, upon which his eyes flicker across various machines such as coffee makers.

"How do you keep the library quiet, with the noise which must surely come from having the, er, the cafe set up?" Erik asks curiously.

Charles smiles. "I'm not quite sure, to be honest. Somehow, it works. Like a well oiled machine, I suppose. The library is constantly peaceful and undisturbed by the quiet chatter which sometimes comes from those dining here."

"You must be a very busy man, Mr Xavier." Erik comments.

Charles sighs.

"Yes, but is it the good kind of busy. The residents who are staying here – I shall stop calling them that, they do have names." he chuckles lightly.

"Raven Xavier, my adopted sister stays here with me and works at the café, it does earn quite a reasonable wage and, between you and I, I often try to place my own pay into hers so she may purchase what she needs. Sean Cassidy resides here, along with Alex Summers and Darwin. Darwin is quite a wonderful hand, he assists me greatly in the running and maintenance of the library. Alex and Sean occasionally take shifts at the café, but they help however they can. Oh, and Moira! Miss Moira MacTaggert is a dear friend of mine, who often helps me however she can."

Charles halts. "Oh, I do apologise, Erik. I must be boring you so."

Erik smirks at this. "Quite the opposite."

"Charles?" Raven, who has just entered from the set of stairs in the farthest corner of the room, calls out.

Her blonde hair is out and curled at the ends, she comes downstairs dressed in a long sleeve pink blouse and black jeans.

"Raven!" Charles exclaims. "I'd like you to meet someone. Erik, this is Raven, my dear sister. Raven, this is Mr Erik Lehnsherr."

"Please, just Erik." Erik insists.

Raven moves towards Charles' side with a smile on her face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Raven." Erik says, extending his hand to her.

She shakes it and smiles. "And you, Erik. So, what has my brother told you about me? Good things, I hope."

"There are only good things to tell of you, sister." Charles smiles.

Raven's smile widens.

A small smile forms on Erik's face as he says, "He spoke of you as being irreplaceable."

Raven turns to Charles. "Aww, Charles. How sweet of you."

"I was just speaking the truth, Raven." Charles responds, briefly holding her gaze.

"You're just saying that because you want a coffee." Raven says.

"That, and you truly are irreplaceable – I'm not quite sure I'd function without you." Charles answers, smiling still.

Raven turns towards Erik. "Without me, Charles would be so focused on his work, and his little projects, that he wouldn't eat or sleep. I often have to force him to do both of those things."

Erik simply smiles, as he isn't quite sure how to respond to such a statement for he has never felt a sibling bond, or a bond of any sorts, which these two appear to share.

"Would you like a coffee, Erik? Or, maybe, something else to drink?" Raven asks, glancing between Erik and Charles.

"Oh, yes." Charles answers, on behalf of him.

"Erik here is entitled to whatever he wishes to eat. He is fixing the hole in our roof." Charles states.

"I told you there was a hole! You didn't believe me." Raven pouts and crosses her arms.

"Of course I believe you, sister, but you do tend to exaggerate." Charles counters.

Raven tries to stop a smile. "Hey, I do not!"

"You once claimed there was a spider the size of your hand in the bathroom, yet it was no bigger than a coin." Charles says.

The smile cracks on Raven's features, she playfully shoves Charles in the shoulder.

"A big coin." she states. "It was a big spider!"

Charles nods, smiling as though he is amused. "Yes, sister."

"I'll leave you two to it." Raven smiles. "It was nice to meet you, Erik."

Erik nods. "And you, Raven." he smiles pleasantly.

"I'm sorry," Charles begins, turning to Erik. "Where were we?"

"Just about to head upstairs, I think, to take a closer look at the hole in the roof." Erik replies with a lowered voice.

Charles smiles.

"Ah, yes. This way, Erik." he announces, before he begins moving towards the set of stairs which Raven came down.

They pass many shelves, arm chairs, books and lamps on the way to the staircase. They near the main library desk, Erik finds as he nears it that there is a gate between two sections of it. Charles unlocks the gate and opens it, pushing it to the side and locking it in place. Erik follows Charles' up the stairs, mostly in silence, until they reach they stop.

"The hole, it was on the left side, yes?" Charles asks.

Erik simply nods.

"The far corner?" he asks.

Erik nods again.

"I believe it may be in the storage space above, as none of the other rooms have given any indication of having a hole, and they would have presented some time as it has been raining lately. You see, we hardly venture upstairs as the storage space isn't used too much." Charles announces.

Erik stays silent, again not quite sure how to respond to this information, he simply follows Charles up another small set of stairs before they reach the door leading to the storage room.

The hole becomes obvious once inside; a small hole, a few tiles have fallen in and created a small, messy pile on the wooden floorboards.

Erik steps past Charles and attempts to further inspect the hole.

The ceiling of the storage room isn't high at all and Erik should be able to reach it if given a small step ladder.

"Do you have a tool box, Mr Xavier?" Erik questions.

Charles nods. "Yes, I do. I, myself, have used it on a few occasions but Alex has used it mostly. He's quite the handyman. He's good at fixing things, he's good with his hands. Will you require it?"

"Yes. And, perhaps a stool or step ladder?" Erik asks.

Charles smiles. "Whatever you require, Erik. If you'd like to wait here, I'll be back any moment."

Erik nods in response, watching silently as Charles leaves the room.

Erik waits in silence, his eyes flickering over the objects of the room, taking in various details of it, before returning to the hole in the roof.

It shouldn't take very long to fix at all, Charles probably could have repaired it himself.

Erik glances towards the door at the sound of footsteps nearing.

A young, light haired man, with light blue eyes, enters dressed in a grey sweater and brown pants. He carries a rusty red tool box in his right hand.

There is something about this young man, who must somewhere in his early twenties, for Erik halts as he sets his eyes upon him and has to look twice.

There is a familiarity in the man's eyes, and Erik knows who it is he reminds him of, and then it dawns upon him and he knows who the man is, who he reminds Erik of.

"You must be Alex." Erik says, finally, because he knows those eyes.

"Yeah," Alex nods once. "And you're the guy fixing our roof?"

A dry laugh passes Erik's lips. "You can call me that, if you like."

Alex smirks as he hands the toolbox to him.

Erik smiles. "Thank you, for bringing this to me."

Alex nods again.

Erik places the toolbox down on the ground, rummages through it quickly before he finds what he is looking for.

"Ah, this should do." Erik murmurs to himself.

"What?" Alex asks.

Erik glances up quickly.

"I'm sorry?" he frowns.

"Nothing." Alex answers.

Erik manages a small smile before he sets his bags down on the floor. He removes his jacket from his body, finding that even up here it is much warmer than outside. He is left in a long sleeved baggy green shirt. He leaves his beanie over his hair, for it is far too dirty to remove it.

He clasps his hands together and turns to Alex.

"Will you be staying here too?" Alex asks.

Erik manages a small smile. "No. I'm just fixing the roof, showering, and leaving."

Erik pauses.

"Mr Xavier says that you're quite the handyman? That you're good with your hands?" Erik asks, making conversation until Charles returns with the stool or step ladder.

A brief smile flickers over Alex's face. "Uh, yeah. He just says that because he doesn't really know what he's doing with any of the tools."

A light chuckle passes Erik's lips.

"I mean..." Alex continues, "He's a genius. He's smartest man I know. He knows everything about the tools, he knows how to use them, how to create things, I guess he just says that I'm a handyman so he doesn't have to fix the problems."

"Well, if you're good at something you might as well make use of it. Perhaps, he sees potential in you and it's his way of assisting you to build that potential?" Erik suggests.

Alex shrugs. "I guess..." he murmurs.

"I found you a step ladder, Erik, I hope this will do?" Charles asks, as he returns to the room.

His eyes briefly flicker over Erik before he turns to Alex. "Ah, I see you met Alex. Thank you, Alex, for finding the toolbox."

Alex smiles briefly. "I'll leave you to it."

"Nice to meet you, Alex." Erik calls out.

Alex nods. "And you, guy fixing the room," he says before he steps out of the room.

Erik smirks at this.

Charles sets down the ladder directly under the roof, so that Erik may easily access it.

"If you don't mind, Erik, I've got a telephone call waiting for me downstairs, so I might leave you to it?" Charles asks.

Erik nods. "Fine by me."

"Good. Good." Charles smiles. "When you're finished up, the shower is on the second level. Down the hallway to the right, third door. If you have any trouble finding them-"

"I do believe I'll be fine." Erik responds.

"I set out a clean towel for you." Charles states, as he steps towards the door. "Thank you, again, Erik."

* * *

**A/N: Hello! So, this is my first fanfiction story for X-Men and safe to say I was more than nervous about posting it online. I'm not really sure what sparked this idea, but I really enjoyed writing this first chapter and the next few chapters I have completed. So, this is a Modern AU, and there won't be any powers involved but with that said I have a lot of ideas for bringing in the aspects of their powers (Erik's ability to work metal, Darwin's ability to adapt, ****and so on) as well as a lot of the characters back stories and some of the events of X-Men First Class but, of course, with my own tweaks and additions and the events of FC will be altered greatly. I guess you'll just have to wait and see what I'm talking about, and hopefully you'll like it.. I'm hoping to remain as in-character as I possibly can, and hope this is what has been conveyed through the text.**

**I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading. **

**x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I claim and own absolutely nothing all. The wonder that is X-Men, and all the amazing characters, belongs to its respective owners.**

* * *

Don't let the squatters know:  
let's keep it all between us.  
**.**

Once Erik has finished fixing the roof, a task which takes him such little time that he almost feels guilty for taking the free meal and shower from Charles, he packs up the tool box, straps his bags over his shoulders and returns down the staircase.

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs and turns left, he almost bumps into a red haired boy, moving quickly in his direction.

They both halt just in time to not walk into each other.

"My apologies." Erik says, quickly.

The red haired boy shakes his head. "Sorry. I didn't see you. I wasn't expecting anyone to be up here."

"Ah, yes. I was fixing the hole..." Erik murmurs.

He pauses. "You're Darwin, then?"

The boy scoffs. "I wish. Darwin is a freakin' genius," he replies, "I'm Sean."

Erik extends his left hand, the hand not holding the toolbox, and shakes Sean's hand.

"Erik." he shakes his hand.

"Ah. You're the guy fixing our roof." Sean smiles.

Erik nods. Uh, yes.. I suppose that's me."

"Well, the shower is down the hall, to the right. Third door. I'd get in now before Raven does, otherwise you'll miss your chance for good." Sean advises him.

After spotting the toolbox, he offers to take that.

"Here, I'll put this back." Sean takes it from him, smiling as he does.

"Er...Thanks." Erik replies, somewhat awkwardly scratching at his rough beard.

Erik cannot deny that he feels somewhat out of place here, with this neatly kept library, the well dressed men and women, the overall tidiness of the place is new to him considering how and where he has spent these past few months.

Erik follows Sean and Charles' directions and successfully finds the bathroom.

Blue tiles run across the walls, a light shade of blue pain covers the walls. A bright light bulb hangs from the ceiling.

A white porcelain toilet stands in the furthest corner of the room, to the right. A bench runs across the wall, with a sink, several drawers and a small vase of flowers.

To the left, a small bathtub stands, and then a cube with a curtain which, after drawing back the curtain, is revealed to be a small shower.

Erik shuts the door, locks it behind him, and places his bags down slowly on the floor.

He finds a clean towel laid out for him, as Charles promised.

He strips himself of his clothes, starting with his beanie and working his way down to his boots and socks. He folds the dirty clothes in a pile and places them beside his bag, for after he has changed he will place them away at the bottom of his bag. He walks slowly towards the shower, pulls back the curtain and steps inside. He reaches for the shower handles and turns them, smiling briefly to himself as the hot water soaks his body, consumes him, and warms him so.

Erik scrubs at his body, cleaning it thoroughly, and then washes his long hair and beard. He then rests against the cool tiles, adjusting the shower head so that the water still falls onto him, he turns the water up so hot, almost scolding, until the warmth has soaked through his skin and into his bones.

He turns the water off eventually, reaching for the towel laid out for him, he wraps it around his waist and steps towards his bags.

He pulls out a pair of dark green, baggy pants, briefs, and socks. He dresses quickly, and once the bottom half of his body is dressed he then bends over and searches through his bags for a shirt. He finds a baggy, button up dark navy shirt with long sleeved. He slides that on, after placing a singlet over his body.

Erik then places his dirty clothes in the bottom of his bag, tightens the bag and straps it shut. He pulls on his brown boots, folds his beanie up and shoves it into the pocket of his pants, before he turns to the mirror.

The man staring back at him is a tired, worn, thin ghost.

His hair is shaggy and untamed, wild like a lions mane, but he doesn't have a razor to trim his beard with, he doesn't have scissors to cut his hair with, and so he runs his hands through his wet hair and smoothes it back off of his face.

He picks up his bags, slings them over his shoulders, and then picks his jacket of off the floor.

He exits the bathroom to find the hallway empty, then he follows the same familiar path downstairs to find that, in the little time that he fixed the hole in the roof and showered, that the library and cafe are abuzz with customers.

Erik decides then he'd rather leave.

The place is quite crowded for him, it is quite loud, and he decides he would prefer to scrape together the money he has and find food elsewhere.

But just as he exits through the gate and begins moving in the direction of the front doors, he hears a familiar voice.

Charles.

"Erik, you're not leaving without your meal are you?" Charles calls out.

Erik halts.

He turns stiffly, rigidly, towards Charles.

"Er. Yes. I've decided that I'm not quite as hungry as I was earlier." Erik lies.

His stomach is growling, he hasn't eaten any good food in days.

"Please, Erik. I insist." Charles replies.

Erik sighs.

"Please." Charles repeats.

Erik gives in because he can't deny that he is hungry.

"Please, follow me." Charles smiles.

Erik follows Charles through the crowded tables and benches to a small, circular, table with two seats directly opposite.

"You look refreshed after your shower." Charles states.

"Mm." Erik murmurs in response.

"I wasn't quite sure what you wanted, but I do hope you like lasagne. It's home made. A family recipe of the MacTaggert's, I believe." Charles says, pleasantly making conversation.

Erik takes a seat down before Charles, setting his bags down on the ground, underneath the table and out of the way, to find a plate of lasagne and a mug of coffee waiting for him.

"You're not eating?" Erik frowns.

Charles smiles. "No, I've already eaten."

Erik reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a worn packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He sets them down on the table, pulls out a single cigarette and places it between his lips.

Just as he raises the lighter to his cigarette, Charles speaks.

"Oh. I apologise, Erik. No smoking is allowed inside...For health reasons." Charles says quickly.

Erik frowns noticeably and glances up at Charles.

Silence follows.

Erik coughs as he slides the cigarette behind his right ear, leaving it for later. He shoves the lighter into the packet of cigarettes and places it into his pocket.

"So, Erik, are you in town for business or pleasure?" Charles asks curiously.

Erik cuts into his lasagne, using the cutlery neatly placed out before him.

"Neither." Erik answers impassively.

"Do you know where you'll stay?" Charles asks.

Erik lies.

"I've an idea where." he replies.

Charles smiles. "Good. That's good, Erik."

"Can I get something stronger?" Erik asks.

Charles frowns ever so slightly, the smile faltering briefly on his features.

"I'm sorry?" he replies.

"I meant in terms of a beverage." Erik responds.

Charles checks his watch, he does this so obviously but did not intend to.

"I'm quite aware of the time, Charles." Erik smiles pleasantly. "I asked for a stronger beverage, not what time of day it is."

"I'm afraid the liquor is either in my study or upstairs." Charles responds.

Erik says nothing as he cuts another small piece of his lasagne.

After swallowing the mouthful, Erik speaks.

"So, what, these children here are – they are here because they've nowhere else to go?" Erik asks, swallowing another mouthful of his meal.

Charles nods. "Yes."

"And they work here? Do they not attend school?" Erik asks.

"Raven and Sean graduated only last year. Darwin will graduate University this year. And Alex, he dropped out several months before graduation and is currently pursuing other options." Charles answers.

"You must be proud of them." Erik answers.

Charles smiles. "I am."

"If you don't mind me asking..Is it like you are a substitute father to these children - to these young adults, perhaps because of an absence of a father in your own life?" Erik asks.

Charles' smile disappears entirely, the kind smile still rests on his features.

Erik was only questioning, he meant nothing by it, but he sees know that he has struck a nerve.

"Shit, Charles." Erik curses and places his cutlery down.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to offend you." Erik says honestly. "Sometimes, I can't shut my mouth before it comes out-"

Charles' smile returns. "There is no need for an apology, Erik. You did nothing of the sort."

Erik stands abruptly from his chair, Charles stands seconds later.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Charles." Erik smiles briefly, as he reaches down for the bags placed underneath the table.

He picks them up easily and slings them over his shoulder.

"It was a pleasure meeting you." Erik says, extending his right hand.

"And you." Charles smiles, reaching out for Erik's hand and shaking it.

"Perhaps we may see you here again?" Charles asks.

Erik's smile remains.

"Until then." Charles smiles.

Erik nods briefly. "Until then."

* * *

It doesn't take him long to reach his destination, for the location and directions to the house he now stands before are permanently etched into his mind.

Erik stands before a small house with brown boards, grey window frames, and a glass front door, with red and green patterns engraved. When he reaches the door, he knocks on it once.

He hears footsteps moving towards the door and swallows tightly.

When the door opens, a familiar face, that has changed with time, stands before him.

A man with short brown hair, with scattered strands of grey, dressed in a long red and brown patterned shirt and brown pants stands before Erik.

His hair is slicked back neatly, his face cleanly shaven, his eyes the same familiar shade of blue.

"Erik?" he gasps, like he can't believe it, like he can't believe his nephew has come back to him.

He can't believe that he has come home.

Erik manages the smallest of smiles.

"Albert." Erik croaks.

"Look at you!" Albert exclaims, grinning. "Come here," he says, as he pulls Erik towards him.

He remembers when Erik was a sweet young boy, happy and trouble free, and then he remembers the darker times, the harder days, the days when that boy was never seen.

Seeing him now is a shock to say the least, a happy shock though.

Albert embraces Erik tightly, placing his hands around his back and pulling him in warmly.

He smells of mint and whiskey, a smell which he remembers lingering on his father.

Erik breaks the embrace.

"Come on in. I've got the fire on." Albert smiles, gesturing towards the front door.

Erik scrapes his boots on the brown mat at the door before he steps inside, closely followed by Albert.

He enters the house to find it the same.

A small, crowded kitchen to the left. Various dishes and plates in the sink. To the right, a small circular table with two seats stands. He steps past the kitchen and into the living room; the fire has been lit and provides a great feeling of warmth as he steps inside, his boots moving over the wooden floor boards.

A rug rests underneath the small wooden couch, a small square table with scattered books and pens stands in front of the couch. A few books shelves stand beside the couch. A television on a wooden stand rests directly opposite couch.

"Coffee? Hot Chocolate?" Albert asks.

Erik shakes his head once. "No, thank you."

"I can't believe my own eyes. You're here." Albert smiles, stopping to cast another look over his nephew who he hasn't seen since he was eighteen years old.

"What, you didn't expect to see me again?" Erik asks curiously, as he slowly slides his bags down beside the couch.

His eyes unintentionally flicker over photographs that he can't bear to look at, so he turns away.

"Honestly? No. You were gone, Erik. Sixteen years - that's a long time. You look different. So different to how I remember you." Albert sighs, as he enters the living room and appears in front of Erik.

Erik holds Albert's gaze, saying nothing.

"Are you sure I can't get you something to eat or drink?" Albert asks.

Erik shakes his head, staying almost frighteningly silent.

But Albert is used to this, the silence, for he recalls how silent Erik fell as a child, when the happy boy he was disappeared and the dark eyed, empty boy changed with time took his place.

"Here. Sit down." Albert gestures towards the couch.

Erik stiffly steps towards the couch, the searing pain in his knees returning.

As he lowers himself down on it, he releases an almost involuntary wince.

Albert notices this instantly.

"Are you hurt, son?" Albert asks, worry falling across his features in only seconds.

"No." Erik grimaces but passes it off as a smile. "Are you here alone?" Erik asks.

"I met a lady. We've been married three years. Her named is Lucy. I think you'd like her." Albert smiles, as he remember that happy day.

But the happiness of that day was overshadowed by the absence of his family, of those most important to him who weren't able to be with him.

"You, uh – You-" Albert starts, almost awkwardly, almost like he doesn't know how to interact with Erik.

"No." Erik answers sharply.

He doesn't have anyone.

A minute of silence passes.

"What brings you back?" Albert asks.

Erik sighs.

"I'll only be in town for a few weeks. A month at the most." Erik states, blatantly avoiding Albert's question. "Would it be of any trouble to you or Lucy if I slept on your couch?"

Albert nods. "You can take one of the spare bed-"

"The couch is quite suitable." Erik says quickly.

Albert smiles again. "It's yours for as long as you need it. I'm just – I'm glad to see you back again, Erik. I am. I honestly didn't think I would."

Erik nods coldly.

Albert releases a loud sigh as he pats Erik on the back once.

"While you're here, there's a razor in the bathroom. Shave that nest off of your face." Albert instructs, sounding exactly like the man Erik remembered.

Erik smirks at this but says nothing, simply releasing a sigh and leaning back down against the two pillows on the couch. He readjusts them, releases another sigh, and closes his eyes.

He needs this rest, he needs this sleep, but above all he needs to place his mind on anything other than what the walls of this house used to hold, what the laughter and voices in this house used to feel like, what the music playing used to sound like, and what life before was like.

He thinks of a dark and empty place, with no laughter or voices, no music and no life, and it is here where he falls asleep, for it is here he believes he belongs because reality is so much more emptier to him than this place.

* * *

After lunch, Charles had returned to his study, taken several more phone-calls, completed some paperwork, and had, at Raven's forceful request, eaten lunch. He then returned to the library and found Darwin, sorting through the shelves quickly. He greeted Darwin pleasantly, commented on how good it was to see him this afternoon, and then he walked leisurely through the library, checking on certain books and looking after the shelves.

After the day had finished, and they had closed up, Charles was the last to retire upstairs.

He found Raven, Sean and Darwin in the living room. Sean and Raven were watching television and Darwin was reading a book. However, as Charles casts his eyes over them he found that Raven seemed far more interested in Darwin than the television, but he doesn't seem to take any notice of this.

Charles smiled at this and passed them, heading towards his own room.

He entered his bedroom, a medium sized room with a small bookshelf, a single armchair, and a double bed was what his room consisted of. Green curtains hung before the windows. A lamp stood on his bedside and a second, taller lamp stood beside the bookshelf. He often found his room to be a cold place but didn't complain of the draft that moved through it.

After an hour of reading, Charles was pulled from his book by a knocking on the door.

"Professor?" Alex calls outs.

Charles smile at this.

Alex had insisted on this formality, of calling him a professor, as did Darwin and Sean, even though it had been a few years since Charles had taught. He'd been employed at a University for a few years, when he returned, but he soon left his job to care for the library and the children - because they had been children then.

"Come in, Alex." Charles answers kindly.

Alex opens the door and half leans inside.

"Dinner's ready." Alex states.

It was his turn to cook tonight.

Charles smiles. "Good. I'm quite hungry."

"Moira's here." Alex adds.

"The more the merrier." Charles answers.

He switches out the lamp and follows Alex outside.

They enter the small dining room, which was previously a filing room but was converted by Charles, to find Raven, Sean and Darwin already eating.

"Please.. Raven, Darwin, Sean - don't wait for us." Charles smirks.

Raven glances up, swallowing her food quickly she speaks.

"Those who fall behind stay behind." she teases. "Besides, this is great!"

Charles glances down towards the dish; spaghetti and meat balls.

Charles hears footsteps behind him and glances around to find Moira in the doorway.

"Moira." Charles smiles, stepping towards her.

The two embrace tightly. "How great it is to see you."

"And you, Charles." she smiles.

"Please.." Charles starts, reaching for the chair closest he pulls it out.

She sits down and smiles.

"I should come here more often." she says.

Raven's eyes light up. "Yes. You should. I'm the only girl, I'm outnumbered."

Charles takes his seat beside Raven.

"You've never complained before." Charles replies.

"Well, I am now." Raven counters.

"This looks delicious, Alex." Charles says.

Alex shrugs it off and begins to eat his meal.

As Charles glances towards Moira, to see if she is enjoying her meal, he finds that she is but this isn't what catches his attention.

He spots a dark bruise on her wrist, which she has attempted to hide with a watch but has failed as the watch has slide down slightly.

Charles swallows tightly and tries to focus his mind on anything but that.

There could be a perfectly simple explanation for that, he convinces himself. He then convinces himself that it would be far more appropriate to wait until after dinner to approach the topic.

And so he joins in the conversation, which is light and filled with laughter and chatter, and he finds it to be quite an enjoyable evening with the exception of the image of the bruise replaying before his mind.

Charles is put off his meal.

Not simply because of the bruise on Moira's wrist but because of all that the bruise reminds him of.

When asked, he says he ate a big lunch but Raven knows he is lying. Surprisingly, she doesn't catch him out on his lie but rather goes along with it, because she knows he must have some reason to be lying.

She decides to leave it for the night, and that she will speak to him about it tomorrow.

Raven and Darwin clear the table, because it's their turn to do the dishes tonight, while Sean and Alex leave to have showers and go to sleep.

Charles wishes them goodnight before he asks whether Moira would like to join him in the living room with a cup of coffee. She waits for him silently, watching the pictures on the television but not really paying too much attention.

Charles enters the kitchen to find Raven and Darwin by the sink, laughing loudly.

"What's gotten into you two?" Charles smiles, after a moment of silently watching them.

"Nothing." Raven smiles sweetly.

"Ah." Charles nods once, as he fixes up two mugs of coffee and waits, with his arms crossed, for the kettle to boil.

"I know that smile. You used to use that on me to get your way out of trouble." Charles says.

Raven's smile remains. "I don't know what you're talking about." she innocently replies.

Charles laughs softly.

"It was nothing, Professor." Darwin turns to Charles, with a cloth in his hands that he was using to wipe the dishes. "Raven just made a joke. A very bad one."

"Ah!" Charles exclaims. "That explains it. She tends to make bad jokes. Awful ones, actually."

"Hey," Raven points at Charles. "You always laugh at my jokes."

"Yes, sister.." Charles sighs, as he pours the hot water into the mugs of coffee. "I laugh at how sweet you are for believing they are good ones."

Raven crosses her arms and pouts her lips.

"Goodnight, you two." Charles smiles, as he picks up the mugs.

He steps forward and places a kiss to Raven's cheek. "You know I'm teasing, sister."

She smiles.

"I know." she sighs. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Darwin nods.

Once Charles has left the room, a momentary silence follows.

But Raven quickly fills the silence.

"My jokes aren't that bad, are they?" she asks.

Darwin hesitates. "They aren't _that_ bad."

She playfully slaps him. "You're such a bad liar."

Darwin smiles. "Rather a bad liar than a bad joke teller."

"Come on." she sighs loudly. "Darwin. Stop teasing."

"They're not all bad." he says finally.

"Thank you!" she exclaims, as she finishes washing the dishes.

Raven hesitates as she folds up the towel in her hands.

She turns towards Darwin and smiles.

He says nothing.

"Goodnight." she says, still smiling softly.

He smiles. "Goodnight, Raven."

They hold each others gaze for a moment longer before he leaves the room, leaving Raven to stare at the spot where he previously stood.

* * *

Charles returns to Moira to find her waiting silently and patiently for him.

He smiles at the sight of her.

"Here." Charles smiles, handing the mug to Moira.

She smiles thankfully and takes it. "Thank you, Charles."

Charles doesn't wait.

"Moira. May I ask you something?" he asks.

Her smile doesn't falter in the slightest.

"Of course, Charles." she answers kindly.

Charles sighs ever so softly.

"If I am stepping over some sort of boundary or invisible line, please do tell me." he states.

The slightest frown flickers on her features.

She simply nods.

Charles gently takes her wrist, slightly lowers the watch, and examines the bruise carefully and closely.

"Did he do this to you?" Charles asks quietly.

Moira shakes her head, her lips part but no words form, no words pass her lips.

She pulls her hand away from Charles, pushes her hair behind her ears, and moves to stand.

He stands with her.

"Moira. I don't wish for you to leave." Charles says quickly.

Moira manages a small smile. "I'm sorry, Charles. But I have to go."

"But you don't, Moira. You don't have to go." Charles softly promises her. "You don't have to go home to him."

"You don't-" she starts.

"I do." Charles answers quickly. "I know what you're feeling. You're scared. But you don't have to be, you don't have to let him hurt you again."

"Moira, you must be strong." Charles gently takes her hands and grasps them in his. "You are strong. I know it. You know it too."

She nods, a small, sad laugh escapes her lips as the tears trail down her cheeks.

"You have a home here. For as long as you need." he smiles sadly. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"My things. Everything is at the house." she sighs sadly, pulling her hands out of his only so she may wipe her fallen tears away.

"I'll take care of that." Charles assures her. "Don't worry about that tonight." he adds.

"Charles, I couldn't put you out." she sighs.

"You'd be doing no such thing. There are more than enough rooms here, Moira. You may have your pick of any." Charles smiles, embracing her warmly.

She holds him tightly, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder.

"You don't ever have to see him again, Moira." Charles soothingly says. "I promise you."

She smiles a true smile, a real smile, a smile of relief and of hope.

"Really?" she asks softly.

He gently soothes her hair. "Yes. I promise. You're safe here. You'll always have a home here with us."

* * *

**A/N: Hi! I just want to say thank you for reading my story, and a special thanks to Guest and Voodoo-Mutant-Child for the reviews of chapter one :3 I'm glad that you are enjoying it, and here's the next chapter. Things between Erik and Charles will be building up really slow, but I wanted to make it realistic, and things will start to be revealed/take interesting turns soon.**

**Again, thanks for reading & I hope you enjoy.**

**Guest 7/25/13 . chapter 1: **Dear, Guest :) Thank you! I'm really happy to read that you're excited, and hope that this chapter was enjoyable. I promise that the "familiar" feeling WILL be revealed soon, and it will be really important/interesting to the story (I think so anyway) Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you love it! x


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I claim and own absolutely nothing all. The wonder that is X-Men, and all the amazing characters, belongs to its respective owners.**

* * *

Today is dead winter in the forgotten land  
that comes to visit me, with a cross on the map.  
**.**

When Erik steps out of the bathroom, dressed in a long sleeve black turtle neck sweater, a black leather jacket and tight brown pants, he hears hushed voices coming from the living room. He thinks nothing of it and walks towards it, finding as he enters it that his Uncle Albert is in deep conversation with a man he recognises as the person who drove him into town, Jack Colbert.

Erik frowns deeply, his eyes become hardened and dark in seconds.

Albert notices Erik first.

"Ah. Erik! Look at you, all cleaned up. Now, I can see your face again." Albert smiles.

Erik stays silent and remains suspicious.

"Erik. Good to see you, again." Jack nods, smiling briefly. "Almost didn't recognise you in the truck. My apologies, the last time I saw you - you were only a young boy."

Erik stiffly nods. "What were you two talking about?"

"Work." Albert answers a little quickly.

The frown remains deeply set on Erik's features, as he feels the mood between the two men to be tense.

"Best to be off.." Jack sighs. "Erik, Albert." he nods at them before he leaves the living room. "I'll see myself out." he says, once in the kitchen.

And he leaves without another word.

"Everything okay?" Albert asks.

"You tell me." Erik answers impassively.

Albert releases a slightly shaky sigh.

"Has something happened?" Erik asks, the frown remaining on his face.

Albert swallows tightly. "You might want to take a seat, son."

Erik crosses his arms. "I'm good standing."

"Son..." Albert sighs. "There's something that you ought to know – but before you do, I just want to tell you that I searched for you for years after you left the military. We couldn't find you to tell you."

Erik waits in silence.

"It's about your brother." Albert admits.

Erik tenses up noticeably, his entire body stiffens and his expression becomes much colder, much harsher, than it was seconds earlier.

His voice becomes dry and cracks. "Markus...What, is he here? Has he come home?"

"Yes, son. He came home. Several years ago." Albert answers.

Erik's eyes narrow. "Is he here, now? I saw no sign of him-"

Erik halts as he notes an expression of grief forming upon Albert's features.

"Where is he, Albert?" Erik asks. "Where is Markus?"

"Markus returned to us ill. He lived many happy years here until he passed..." Albert says sadly.

Erik only manages to say one word at first.

"No."

"We tried to find you. I tried but we couldn't locate you. No one could. Markus he – he passed many, many years ago. He went peacefully, Erik. I thought you'd like to know that." Albert says softly.

Erik shakes his head quickly. "You can't be speaking the truth. Markus was-"

Albert sighs deeply. "He was a very ill young boy. Always unwell. You remember that?"

Erik laughs as a few stray tears slip unnoticed down his cheeks.

"Do I remember that?" he laughs.

"Erik..." Albert begins.

"Of course I remember it!" he shouts, suddenly turning red, the veins in his neck and face throbbing and pulsating madly as he continues to shout.

He shouts for all he lost and all he never had.

"How could you ask me that? I knew he was ill! I knew! I thought he grew past it. I didn't - " Erik halts, as though he is in sudden need of air.

He inhales deeply and shuts his eyes.

Albert disappears from the room.

Erik silently believes that his Uncle will not return, but he does.

"He wrote letters to you, Erik. Several. " Albert extends the folded envelopes. "I promised him I'd hand them to you, but I never thought you'd return."

"Did he die here?" Erik asks.

Albert doesn't move and he doesn't answer.

"Did he?!" his voice rises again.

"Yes, Erik. He passed peacefully."

In only a matter of several seconds, Erik manages to pull himself together.

"I can't stay here." he announces, moving towards his bags. "I should never have returned."

"You did a good thing returning here, son."

"Really, Albert? Please, do tell me, what good has come from it, hm?" Erik replies, as he hastily shoves what little contents he'd pulled out of his bags away. "Nothing. No good has come."

"Please, don't leave, Erik. You and I, we're family." Albert pleads.

Erik slides his bags over his shoulders.

"You're right, we are. But I will not stay in this house and I won't stay with a man who was content to lie to me about my deceased brother."

"I would have told you, Erik, when I felt the time was ready. When I felt you were ready. Erik..Please, if you must leave – take the letters. May it give you the peace which Markus found." Albert pleads.

"Peace?" Erik's eyes flicker down towards the letter for a moment.

He falls silent as his fingers brush the paper envelopes.. He picks them up slowly, sliding them between two of his fingers.

"Peace was _never_ an option."

* * *

The afternoon is warm yet dark outside, heavy clouds have begun to form in the sky and threaten to release heavy rain upon all underneath it.

Charles had arranged for Raven to have the day off and to go out with Moira, to spend the day doing whatever they wanted to. He was still planning to retrieve Moira's belongings, she left him her key and her address, he was waiting for Sean to return with boxes.

Charles was in his room, his study, when he heard a tapping on his door.

"Yes, come in?" Charles calls out.

Alex pushes open the door and steps inside.

"Ah, Alex!" Charles smiles. "What can I do for you?"

"The guy who fixed our roof is here." Alex announces.

A slight frown crosses Charles' features but only remains there momentarily.

"Erik." Alex adds.

"Oh, Erik is here?" Charles asks.

Alex nods. "He didn't want to intrude in your study. Those were his words."

"I'll be right down." Charles smiles.

Erik waits in silence, his eyes flickering curiously over the library before him. Just as his eyes settle down a particular section which he is interested in, he hears a voice speaking his name.

Charles cannot help but smile at the sight of Erik.

"Erik. How nice it is to see you again, and so soon." Charles says.

Erik turns towards Charles and manages a small smile.

"You came back?" Charles says, clearly puzzled.

Erik simply nods.

"I must say, you do appear to be an almost unrecognisable man." Charles smirks.

Erik simply nods, again.

Charles shifts somewhat awkwardly in his stance.

"Is there something I can do for you, Erik, or perhaps something I may help you with?" Charles asks.

Erik clears his throat. "I'd like a room, if there are any available."

"Yes, indeed there are several-" Charles starts.

"I'll pay for it. And work around here." Erik informs him.

Charles extends his hand to Erik's. "Welcome."

Erik shakes Charles' hand briefly, their eyes meeting before Erik withdraws his hand. Then, he glances towards Sean and Darwin who have just entered the library carrying brown boxes. Charles follows Erik's slow gaze, and eventually speaks.

"Sean, Darwin – This is Erik. He'll be staying here for a while." Charles informs them.

"Awesome." Sean nods.

"What are the boxes for, if you don't mind me asking?" Erik asks.

"I'm helping out a friend. I mentioned her earlier, Moira?" Charles replies, turning towards Erik.

"Yes." Erik nods. "You mentioned her previously. How is it you're helping her? And may I be of any assistance?"

"I'm helping her to move her belongings. I could actually use another pair of hands. Alex is accompanying me, while Sean and Darwin stay with the library. Moira left a list. A very detailed one, of what to pack. It wouldn't be a bother, would it, Erik?" Charles replies.

"On the contrary," Erik smiles. "A welcomed distraction."

"Good. I'll show you upstairs, to a room of your choosing, and then we'll leave."

Charles leads Erik upstairs and towards shows him through several rooms, stating that Erik may chose whatever room he likes.

Much to Charles surprise, although he doesn't verbally proclaim this surprise, Erik chooses the smallest of all the rooms.

A single bed in the corner, a small wooden book shelf placed directly beside the bed. A lamp, a small wooden table and a chair, as well as a drawer for Erik to place his clothes in, stand in this cramped room.

Erik likes it.

Charles hands Erik the key for the room and leaves him to set up his belongings for a moment, stating that he will meet him down stairs whenever he is ready. Erik shuts the door and exhales heavily. He sets his bags down on the room, deciding that he will perhaps sort out his clothes upon his return to the library.

After shoving the cigarette packet and lighter into his pocket, he shuts the door to his room, locks it with the key, slides the key into his pocket and heads downstairs.

He meets Charles and Alex by the doorway, finding Alex holding a large pile of boxes. They head out through a side door and towards Charles' parked car. Erik sits in the back seat, lighting up his cigarette as he slides in.

He occasionally adds into the conversation, answers questions from Alex and Charles, but apart from that Erik is mostly quiet and it appears to Charles and Alex that he prefers it that way.

Once they arrive at what Erik assumes is Moira's house, Charles turns towards Alex and Erik.

"We must proceed with some caution here." he informs them.

Erik smiles. "Of course, Charles."

And with that, Erik slides out of the car.

Charles walks up towards the door first, Erik and Alex follow behind.

After putting his cigarette out on the front porch of the single, pale blue house, Erik glances towards the front door which has just opened.

A dark haired man with deep brown eyes and slicked back hair answers the door, wearing a look of annoyance upon his features.

"What the hell do you-" the man starts.

Erik steps past Charles and reaches for the brown collar of the man's shirt. He grips it tightly, wrapping his single hand around the base of the man's neck. He drags him out of the doorway and slams him harshly up against the wall.

"Erik, I-" Charles starts.

"You'll be alright to pack up inside, won't you, Charles?" Erik asks.

Charles nods. "Yes-"

"Good. If you don't mind, I'll stay out here for a moment." Erik replies. "Get some fresh air."

Charles glances over Erik, slowly, before he somewhat cautiously enters Moira's house.

He has been here before so he knows where all of the items listed should be.

Alex trails in after Charles, only after Charles has to call him inside.

"I don't know who you are, and what the hell you're doing in my house-" The man starts.

"Oh, I think you do know." Erik smiles, his grip around the man's throat tightens.

Erik releases the man, but only for a brief second.

He grabs him harshly by his right hand, twists his hand behind his back and slams his face against the wall.

"I think you also know that if you lay another hand on a woman, I'll come back here and I'll break every single bone in your worthless body. Do we have an understanding?" Erik angrily asks, his hair falling messily in-front of his face.

The man doesn't answer.

Erik twists his arm harder until the bone almost cracks.

"I said, do we have an understanding?!" he nearly growls.

The man nearly cries out with agony. "Yes, yes. We do. Just let go, stop hurting me."

After speaking with the man outside for a few moments longer, Erik bound his wrists to an armchair and entered the house to find Charles and Alex packing up Moira's belongings. He joined them, assisted them in packing, and then carried several of the boxes outside to Charles' car.

Upon leaving the house, Charles and Alex found Jonathan bound to a chair, red-faced and clearly angry, but they said and did nothing. Charles ushered Alex forward, glancing back once more upon this man who hurt his friend, before he followed Alex down to the car.

Erik was resting against the car door when they found him, a lit cigarette hanging between his lips. He nodded curtly at them but said not a word, for he had not a word to say.

He joined them in packing the car up with the remaining boxes, before Erik returned to Jonathan. The two shared a few words, a brief exchange, before Erik left him tied to the armchair.

Not a word was said on the return to the library, for Alex and Charles did not know what could or should be said about Erik's behaviour; his silent realisation that this man had physically and mentally abused Moira, his attitude towards this and his physical treatment of the man because of it.

The three men carried the boxes inside and up towards Moira's room, which was unlocked. After they set the boxes down, Alex returned downstairs to meet with Sean, while Charles lingered in the hallway as he waited for Erik to finish placing his box down.

"That all?" Erik calls out, stepping out of the door frame.

Charles nods. "Thank you for your help today, Erik."

Erik smiles. "It's the least I can do."

Charles returns the smile. "Is there anything I can get you, Erik?"

Erik considers Charles' words before he shakes his head once.

"No, thank you, Charles." Erik replies casually. "I think I'll unpack my belongings."

Charles' smile unintentionally widens. "So, you're calling me Charles now?"

Erik returns the smile. "Yes, Charles. If it is alright-"

"Of course, Erik." Charles nods. "Enjoy the afternoon." he smiles kindly.

Erik manages a small smile. "You too, Charles."

Erik slides the key out of his pocket as he returns to his room.

He unlocks the door, steps inside and then shuts the door behind him. He turns to the room and releases a small sigh before he moves to the window and opens it. Erik sticks his head out of the window, breathing in the cool air, before he pulls himself back inside and pulls back the curtains so more of a breeze will drift through his room.

When he turns towards his bags, he halts and slowly settles his eyes upon them.

After a moment of hesitation, he leans forward and scoops up his bags, placing them down on the bed. Erik focuses on his breathing, he inhales and exhales slowly, as he shuts his eyes. Another moment passes before he reaches for his bags and begins to unzip them. He sorts his clothes into two piles: one pile is of clean clothes, the other of unclean clothes.

Erik folds the clean garments neatly, placing them away neatly in the chest of drawers. He places the unclean clothes into one of his bags and straps it over his shoulder.

However, he comes to another abrupt stop as he spots the envelopes sticking out of the side of his bag. He pulls them out slowly, counting five. Erik swallows tightly before he moves towards the chest of drawers and slides the envelopes underneath a pile of clothes. He shuts the drawer, and reaches for the door handle.

Erik locks the room, slides the key into his pocket, and moves down in the direction of the staircase.

However, as he moves down the corridor and towards the staircase the sound of nearby voices cause him to stop.

He turns to his right and steps inside the open archway, to find a small kitchen with a long bench and sink, a single fridge and stove, and several chairs and stools. Erik steps inside to find one recognisable face, and a new face with light brown hair and dark eyes.

Raven smiles.

"Erik!" she exclaims. "What are you doing back here? Did you find another hole in the roof?"

Erik smiles as he hears her words. "No, Raven. I'm paying for a room."

"That's so cool!" Raven's smile widens. "Oh, Erik – This is Moira, Moira this is Erik."

Erik takes a single step forward towards Moira and extends his hand.

"How do you do?" he smiles pleasantly.

She shakes his head and returns the smile. "Well, and you?"

"Well." Erik answers.

"Moira will be staying here with us too." Raven nearly beams with excitement.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Erik." Moira says kindly.

Erik smiles. "The pleasure was mine, Moira."

Erik pauses. "Er, Raven...Could you direct me to the room I could do my washing in?"

Raven nods. "Sure. It's down the hall, to the right – First door. Wait. I've got, like, a TON of washing to do. I can just do yours too if you like."

"Er..No, that's quite alright, Raven." Erik shakes his head.

"Oh no, it wouldn't be a bother. Trust me. It's fine." she reaches for the bag hanging off his shoulder. "I don't mind."

"Don't worry. I won't go through your delicates." Raven grins.

Erik shakes his head, a dry laugh passing his lips. "Er..I don't have any delicates, as you put it. Thank you, Raven. And Moira, it was nice meeting you."

Just as Erik turns his back on the two of them, Moira speaks.

"Oh, Erik?" Moira says, "Charles told me how you helped with the boxes today."

Erik turns back, somewhat slowly and stiffly, and simply nods.

"Thank you." Moira says softly, a smile on her face.

Erik falters in the hallway, he stands there for a flicker of a second before he leaves in search of some fresh air and alcohol.

* * *

**A/N: Hi! Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you are enjoying it so far. Thanks also to the kind reviewers, and to those how have placed my story in their favourites or followed it. Honestly, it means so much to me and I hope you like where this is headed.**

**Special thanks to Voodoo-Mutant-Child and kili-grabmyhand for their reviews of chapter two. :)**

**Thanks for reading & I hope you enjoy this new chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I claim and own absolutely nothing. The wonder that is X-men, and all of the amazing characters, belongs to its respective owners. **

* * *

To return to me, to return again the water  
fallen on the roof of my childhood.  
**.**

Erik walks at a steady pace through the small town, trying to make this journey as quick as possible. He counts the money in his pocket and decides that he has enough for one bottle of whiskey, and quickly purchases it. On his return back to the library, his eyes skim over a mechanic shop and the sight of it causes him to stop suddenly.

He lingers outside the door, studying it, before he eventually ventures inside with the whiskey bottle wrapped in a brown bag. He looks over the workers, and the cars, in silence until a tall man with a short beard and long grey hair calls out to him.

"Can I help you, son?" he asks.

Erik turns in his direction and pauses.

"Oh, no...I don't have a car."

The man smiles.

"So, you just felt like walking inside, then?"

"I'm actually enquiring about whether you have any positions open?" he pauses. "My name is Erik Lehnsherr."

"Ah! That's where I recognise you. Of course, I should have realised sooner."

A frown crosses over Erik's face. "I'm sorry..I don't believe I know you?"

"You don't," he shakes his head. "I knew Jakob. My name is Lewis."

Erik swallows tightly, trying his hardest to control himself at the simple mention of his father's name.

"Yes, well, are there any positions open?"

Lewis pauses, as his eyes settle on the bottle in the brown bag. Erik quickly speaks up, deciding now bringing the bottle inside to a place where he hopes to find work probably wasn't the smartest idea.

"This is a gift." Erik stammers.

"Sure." Lewis nods, the kind smile still remaining. "Do you have any qualifications?"

"I used to work in-"

"I know, your fathers shop as a child. I remember." Lewis nods again, before exhaling. "Come in tomorrow morning. We'll have more cars in then. You can have a test run, and then I'll decide if I can hire you or not."

"Thank you, Lewis." Erik grins, extending his hand to him.

Lewis shakes his hand firmly. "It's no problem, son. How long do you plan to stay in town?"

Erik's smile falters. "I'm sorry?"

"Is this going to be a permanent job, or a temporary one? I mean, _if_ you get the job. It's just, you were gone for a very long time, Erik." Lewis answers.

His smile vanishes entirely.

"It will be a temporary job. I'm in need of money."

Lewis exhales deeply. "I'll see you tomorrow at eight. But I can't guarantee anything, I hope that you know that."

Erik nods curtly. "I do."

Upon his return to the library Erik moves upstairs to his room, the bottle firmly by his side, greeting and passing Raven as he does. Once inside his room he shuts the door, unscrews the cap of bottle and pulls out his packet of cigarettes.

After opening the window Erik leans against the wall and lights up his cigarette, drawing on it and exhaling the smoke out of the open window. He reaches for the bottle and takes a large mouthful, releasing a deep sigh after. His eyes flicker to the drawer where he remembers placing the letters from his brother, and after a long moment of silence he swallows another mouthful of the liquor.

A knocking on the door breaks him out of his thoughts, so he places down the bottle and steps towards the door. The lit cigarette still hangs from his mouth as he opens the door. Charles stands at the door, a smile resting on his face.

Erik leaves the smoke hanging between his lips, and for a moment he can't seem to find the right words.

"I was smoking out of the window."

Charles sighs, but his smile remains.

"I was actually coming up here to enquire about whether you would like a proper tour? And by that, I mean I would be happy to show you how everything runs downstairs if you wished to get more involved."

Erik nods. "Alright, Charles."

He reaches for the key on his bed and steps out of the doorway, the smoke still hanging out of his mouth. Quickly, Erik locks the door and places the key into his pocket before he turns to Charles.

"Sorry – Do you want one?"

Charles shakes his head.

"Those aren't good for you, Erik."

Erik smirks.

"What is?"

"A lot of things, actually." Charles returns the smile, pausing slightly. "Where did you head off to, this afternoon?"

"I was looking into a job."

Charles' nods, still smiling.

"That's great, Erik. Where?"

"Mechanic."

Charles turns to him.

"How'd it go?"

Erik shrugs and exhales his smoke. "Not great. Don't think it'll work out."

"Well, like I said, if you wish to work here-"

"I'll work here for free, Charles." Erik quickly cuts across him, coming to a halt. "That was our arrangement."

"That hardly seems fair," Charles frowns. "If you're working-"

"You opened your home to me. It is the least I can do." Erik answers. "And don't try to change my mind, Charles, because you won't."

Charles smiles. "I did take you as the stubborn type."

Erik chuckles lightly at this.

"Oh, really?"

He nods. "Yes, I did."

Erik wears a look of amusement on his face.

"What other assumptions did you make of me?"

"Hard working," Charles says. "Determined, not afraid...But uncertain."

"Uncertain about what?" Erik questions, watching him still.

"Everything."

Erik considers the words. "Aren't we all?"

"Mmm." Charles murmurs.

"So, tell me, Charles..Are you entirely certain of everything in your life?"

"Definitely not," Charles replies. "Life is filled with uncertainty, there is no doubt about it. I am incredibly uncertain, about everything...That's why I saw it in you."

"You said I wasn't afraid?" Erik tilts his head sideways curiously.

"Yes, but like I said, merely an assumption." Charles replies, as they descend the stairs.

"I made some assumptions of my own about you."

Charles turns around with a smile on his features.

"Do tell."

"Hard working, determined-" Erik begins.

"You're just stealing mine now." Charles smiles.

"So what if I am?" Erik grins toothily. "In your assumption you must have failed to note that I am a thief."

Charles shakes his head, the grin remaining on his face.

"Oh, I actually assumed quite the opposite – that you were more than willing to give, rather than take."

Erik's smile falters. "Yes, well...There is a point when everything is taken from you, that the idea of taking from others is sickening."

Charles' smile fades in seconds, and he stutters, scratching at his stubble as he does.

"Oh, Erik, I didn't-"

Erik's grin returns. "You are also too kind for your own good. Too believing."

Charles manages a small, dry laugh as he ponders over Erik's words; they were so convincing, they felt so real, so true, and he still believes that they were to some extent real.

"Why don't we quit with the assumptions, Charles, hm?" Erik cocks his head sideways. "I'll put out my cigarette, and we can start on the tour if you'd like?"

Charles nods. "Of course."

The tour of the library is longer, and more extensive this time. Erik is shown over the floors, through the shelves briefly, and even shown the inside of Charles' messy study. Lastly, he shown around the cafe and instructed on how to work certain machines, like the coffee maker, before he returns to the back kitchen, just behind the counter, where all of the food is prepared beforehand.

"I think this will be it."

Erik turns to Charles.

"I'm sorry, Erik?" Charles replies, uncertainty flooding his features.

"I spent a year working in the back of a shop. Cleaning dishes, washing up, all that...Fun stuff." Erik answers. "If you need me out here, I'd be more than happy to."

Charles shifts uncomfortably, still feeling uneasy about the idea of employing Erik here without paying him anything.

"You know...On second thought, I don't know how comfortable I feel with you working here without receiving any wages."

Erik almost rolls his eyes, and for a moment he looks annoyed, but a smile soon breaks out.

"Come on, Charles!" he smiles. "I want to do it. You need the help, and I want to give it to you."

Silence fills the air between them, while Charles hesitates, considering the arrangement once more.

"Come on." Erik pushes. "I won't let you down."

"I never thought you would," Charles quickly reassures him. "I worry that I am-"

"You have offered me a roof to sleep under, a warm shower, and a meal every night for as long as I am here. That is all that I need. Believe me." Erik promises, the smile playing on his lips. "Come on. Give me a shot, Charlie."

"Don't call me that."

Erik grins. "I won't call you it, if you give me the job."

"Alright." Charles nods, the smile breaking out on his face. "You do look happy, at the thought of cleaning dishes."

"Like I said, I've got a couple years experience." Erik shrugs, scratching at the side of his forehead.

Charles glances briefly up at the clock before he takes a second look and exhales.

"Is that the time? Oh, I'm sorry, Erik. I have a telephone call that I must make."

"Go on." Erik nods, the smile still plastered on his face.

"You'll be okay here?"

Erik nods again, causing a smile to return to Charles' face.

"Good. Christopher should be returning any moment, he takes the occasional shift in the kitchen. He's a good friend. Oh, and no smoking back here."

"Yes, boss." he smirks.

Charles casts one last look at Erik, the smile still resting on his face, before he steps away and moves quickly towards his study.

Erik returns his gaze to his surroundings, taking in each detail that his eyes skim over. After a moment he halts and exhales heavily, before the sound of approaching footsteps cause him to spin around quickly. A man with light brown hair and green eyes enters, dressed in a short sleeve white shirt and blue jeans. He frowns slightly when he sees Erik, but still smiles kindly.

"Hi." Erik returns the smile. "My name is Erik-"

"Ah, right. Erik." Christopher nods. "I'm Christopher. Raven told me about you just now, she said I might find you in here. You're working here now, are you?"

"Yes." Erik nods, his eyes skimming slowly over him. "For the time."

Christopher places his brown and blue side-bag down on the table and extends his hand to Erik.

"Pleasure to meet you, Erik. I look forward to working with you."

Erik falters slightly before he shakes his hand.

"And you."

The smile remains on Christopher's features as he reaches for a blue and green striped apron hanging on a hook in the wall. He pulls it down and slides it on over his body.

"So, Raven never said where you were from, Erik?" Christopher asks curiously.

"I didn't say."

"How long can we expect you to be in town?" Christopher inquires, turning to him.

"Enough with the pleasantries, Christopher." Erik coldly says, no trace of a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry?"

Christopher nearly laughs, suddenly noticing how close he and Erik are. Erik suddenly grabs him harshly by the throat and slams him roughly into the fridge. Rage builds up in his eyes, while anger bursts through his words.

"Christopher Mason. Twenty nine years old, works in a little bar in town part time, right?" Erik hisses.

"What?" Christopher struggles underneath Erik's tight grip. "What are you doing, man? How do you even know that?"

"Otherwise known as Christopher _Shaw_, yes?" Erik hisses.

"Yeah, so?"

"First and only son of Sebastian Shaw, yes?"

Erik's face swirls with madness.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Christopher continues to struggle.

Erik's grip tightens. "Where is he? I want you to tell me where his location is."

"I don't know-" he replies shakily.

"Where is Shaw?!" Erik shouts, the words filled with such venom as they pass his lips.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in, like, twenty years." he stutters. "Please, I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to tell me where he is, or I'm going to start breaking bones." Erik threatens fiercely.

"I don't know. I swear, I haven't seen him since I was a child. I don't know – I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Christopher shuts his eyes. "I don't know. Please, don't hurt me. Please. I didn't do anything wrong."

Erik drops his hold of Christopher and takes a step away.

Remorse floods his eyes.

"Christopher," Erik coldly starts.

"I swear, man. I don't know."

Christopher breathes out heavily, looking up at Erik slowly.

Erik falters noticeably. "I want you to answer something honestly, for me."

He shakes his head quickly, unable to look Erik in the eyes.

"I don't know where he is."

"That isn't the question," Erik calmly replies, brushing back his fallen hair. "Did Shaw beat you?"

Christopher freezes. "What – I don't-"

"Yes or no."

"No."

"You're lying." Erik states. "Don't lie to me."

"Okay. Fine. Maybe, he did, like once or twice – look, can't you just leave me alone?" Christopher stands up, rubbing at the raw skin of his neck.

"No, I can't do that." Erik answers quietly. "I'm working here."

Christopher sighs heavily and runs his hands over his forehead.

"What do you want with him, anywa

Erik ignores this.

"I am sorry, Christopher. I didn't intend to frighten you."

"How do you know him?" he looks Erik in the eyes. "Please, don't lie."

"He owes me money." Erik exhales. "I heard...He used to beat-"

"Yeah, well, I don't really want to talk about that with you." he sighs. "Or anyone. So can we forget this happened?"

"Sure." Erik nods. "Why don't you come upstairs to my room, after? We can have a drink, and a couple cigarettes?"

Erik catches an obvious hesitancy and fear, in Christopher's eyes, and it causes him to swallow tightly. He never wished to cause an innocent person fear, but he hadn't known if Christopher was innocent or if he was like Shaw.

"Please." Erik says quietly, his voice much softer. I'll tell you..."

"What?" Christopher asks.

Erik sighs and scratches at his forehead.

"How I know him. I mean, how I _really_ know him."

For a silent moment Christopher considers Erik's words, until he finally gives him an answer and gives into his request.

"Okay," he nods. "But none of that shoving and breaking bone stuff, man. Alright?"

"Okay."

Erik steps forward and readjusts the collar of Christopher's shirt, making it straighter and returning it to how he was.

"There, much better." Erik mumbles quietly. "Again, I'm sorry. I assumed..."

"Yeah, well. We all make mistakes. Let's get to work." Christopher answers quickly.

The rest of the afternoon goes slowly for all, and when night falls Erik informs Christopher of which room is his and tells him he will join him upstairs in a moment.

Erik crosses the floor of the library, moving steadily towards Charles' study. He knocks several times until he receives a response to enter, and he steps inside to find Charles and Moira leaning over a stack of paper, both with mugs of coffee in their hands, looking tired.

"Oh," Erik sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on anything."

Charles puts down the coffee and exhales, before he glances up to Erik.

"You did no such thing. Is there something I can help you with, Erik?"

Erik shakes his head. "No, I just thought I should inform you that I won't be having dinner tonight."

Worry forms on Charles' face.

"Are you ill?"

"No, I've already eaten. I didn't want you to think I was absent-"

"It's quite alright. I do believe Raven, Darwin, Alex and Sean have all gone out...Moira and I will probably order in. But, tomorrow night, we'll eat together for your first...Second night here." Charles answers, smiling as he finishes.

Erik nods. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Okay."

Charles pleasantly replies, watching for a moment as Erik leaves and shuts the door behind him.

Upon his return upstairs to his bedroom he finds Christopher waiting outside. A frown immediately forms on Erik's face.

"No key." Christopher shrugs, a small smile on his face.

"Ah. Sorry."

Erik moves quickly towards the door, sliding the key out of his pocket as he does. After unlocking the door he opens it, and allows Christopher to step inside. Erik shuts the door behind him and steps towards the bottle of whiskey.

"Take a seat, if you like." Erik suggests.

Christopher awkwardly takes a seat. "Look..."

"Here." Erik turns to him, holding the bottle. "My apologies."

"You don't have to apologise, just tell me the truth. Please." he replies. "How do you know him?"

"It's very complicated, Christopher." Erik answers. "And I'm far too sober to talk about it, I'm afraid."

"After a few drinks, then?" he asks.

Erik nods sternly, his body remaining stiff and his expression staying empty as he slowly takes a seat beside Christopher on the bed. He passes the bottle to Erik, who drinks a large mouthful before he passes it back and reaches for the packet of cigarettes.

"You smoke?" Erik asks.

He nods.

Erik lights a cigarette in his mouth, exhales from it, before he passes it to Christopher who takes it and draws it in.

"We allowed to smoke in here?"

Erik shrugs. "Windows open."

"Ah." Christopher looks up at it, before he inhales again.

After lighting his own cigarette, he turns towards Christopher and watches him intensely for a moment.

"Do you have any plans this evening?"

Christopher shakes his head, exhaling as he leans back against the wall.

"No, I don't. You?"

"No." Erik answers. "I'm not a man who has many plans."

"About what?"

"Everything." Erik murmurs quietly.

"Well..." Christopher sighs. "Here's to having no plans for anything and everything."

Erik turns to him, finding a smile on his face. He nods with agreement.

"I'll drink to that."

* * *

**A/N: _Sorry that this chapter is a little short, and late...I hope you enjoy reading it._**

**_Thanks for reading._**

**_x_**


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